At Pavel's suggestion, Soll stares at him for a moment before murmuring "Yur... Me half-orc, so me go talk to half-orcs... Good idea." He then meanders off into the town.
Spoiler:
After he gets out of earshot of the rest of the group, Soll mutters under his breath, "Yeah, sure. Send the mutt to go hang out with the other mutts... The Hells I will." He winces at the dull throbbing pain of his wounds, recalling how close to death he came. "A tavern, a wench and a nights sleep in a warm bed. That's what I need."
As he wanders the town looking for an out of the way place to hole up, an unwelcome thought nags at him. Dammit, he's got a point though. If the half-breeds in town do know anything, they'd be most likely to give it up to me...
With a sigh, he reluctantly trods off seeking the mining camp. 'Sides, if I do learn anything useful, I could always sell the info...
Still tired and wounded, Soll angrily flings his falchion aside, apparently furious with himself for his failings in the fray. He sits near the fire (we did have a fire, right?) and picks through the coals with a disgusted look on his face.
Looking down at the gash across his chest, Soll bellows in fury as he carelessly slashes his falchion 1d20 5=12, 2d4 7=14 at the brute in front of him.
Sorry for posting early, but I'm going to have a tough time getting online regularly for the foreseeable future. I'll try to keep up though :)
Perception 1d20+5=13 David, I redid my skills to bring them in line with the Pathfinder rules. Basically I had to drop a couple of skills, but a few of my existing ones got better.
Soll narrows his eyes in suspicion for a moment, before rapping his knuckles on the bar and standing. "You're right... Maybe I should go" He turns and walks out of the tavern, heading to the main gate.
If I want to know more, I should go with them, huh? More like I should go with them because you want to know more... But I'll play your game Mr. Shadow... If only because I can probably make some decent money followin' these guys around...
Soll furrows his brow at the strangers words before snorting in derision. "Gods? I have a tough time thinkin' that any God would have anything in mind for me, y'know. I just can't see Enkili or Manawe or, or... or any other God sittin' and thinkin' to themselves, "Gee, I should probably come up with some plan for that Soll guy."
Soll pauses for a moment, then sits back on his stool with a smirk on his face. "Aw, what the hey? Now I'm kinda curious. What is it that the "gods" have in store for me?"
Soll looks at the shadowy man with sort of a puzzled expression. "Do? Huh... I dunno. I got some spendin' money now, so I guess I'll just see what happens. What's it to you, anyways?"
Soll sits in a chair across from the stranger and motions for one of the tavern wenches to bring him an ale. Then he turns and speaks to the shadowy figure. "I gotta tell ya, I don't know what in Chardun's Hell is happening down there, but it's pretty awful. We get down there and there are all these little lizardy guys, kobolds I think someone called 'em, doin' some sort of ritual around this black pillar made of... I dunno, looked like shadows almost. Well after we wipe out the kobolds, there's these people down there too, like prisoners, right? So these other people I'm down there with, some of them start tryin' to untie these guys so's they can help 'em escape."
As his ale arrives, Soll takes a large pull from the mug and pauses a moment.
"That's when the guy splits open and turned into this snake... 'thing'. It was... bad. Anyways, we killed the snake things as well, but I think some blood splashed on that pillar during the fight or somethin' cause I heard someone say later that it was like it, the pillar I mean, ate the blood. I heard a voice askin' what we wanted, and I don't really remember much after that, but for a moment I saw a town. Like I was seein' through someone else's eyes. I think it was the town Southwest of Mithril, Mullis Town. That's pretty much it. Oh yeah, we also got into a scrap with these guys, looked like big wild dogs on two legs. One of 'em got me good with his sword, and if the holy lady hadn't been there, I'd probably be dog food by now. Yeah, I dunno what they were... I know I've never seen anything like 'em before, but the kobold the group captured mentioned they were from the South? I dunno. Anyways, I'd like to say it's been a pleasure, but the gapin' wound in my side disagrees"
Soll rises to leave, bag of money in tow.
Soll grunts as the healing magics cast upon him begin to knit his flesh. A moment later he regains consciousness and groggily begins to sit up, pausing as he realizes there's some sort of argument going on. Not really understanding what's going on, but pretty sure it doesn't concern him, he wearily looks around until he spots one of the dead 'dog-boys' and it's gear. "Hey... I kin use these..." he says as he slowly reaches out and takes a bundle of 20 bolts.
After channeling his fury into one last powerful stroke, Soll staggers back a step, and seems to realize the extent of the damage he has taken as he collapses and begins bleeding out.
Soll fidgets as the party makes preperations to assault the 'dog-boys'. Eventually, with a look of frustration on his face, he says "We go soon. Attack dog-men. We wait, they maybe come look. We attack, they not ready, easy win maybe. They attack, we not ready... maybe not win."
Soll grips his falchion. "Yuh. Wanna go find treasure. Wanna kill more scaly men..." He pauses for a moment, then cocks an eye at Pavel. "Those scaly men. They have treasures?" he says pointing at the dead kobolds.
Hmm... apparently certain facial expressions are against the rules. :P
As the rest of the group perform their various tasks, Soll stands by the edge of the doorway with his falchion still drawn, ready to strike any uninvited guests.
Soll stands stiff as a board, seeming to barely react to the strange phenomenon. After a moment, his head turns to address the group at large. "What... Just what the hells are you people involved in?"
After catching his breath, Soll hefts his falchion and swings at the remaining creature, but down in the dank dungeon, he falters slightly as he overexerts himself...
As he swings, he looks up at the pulsating pillar. Strange, but since it wasn't immediately trying to kill him, he shrugs and turns back to the small beasts...
The half-orc roars in pain as the little beasts thrust their spears into his flesh. Gritting his teeth, he chokes down the pain and attempts to maneuver past the kobolds into a flanking position with either the Cleric or halfling for a better strike...
Soll heads in the direction the ranger indicated, keeping an eye out for any 'small creatures' that may lurk in the gloom. Regrettably, his bulk impedes somewhat his capabilites at moving unseen.
Soll nods towards the ranger. "Yur. Him right. Small mens stay back. If bad things come, small mens get deaded. Big mens in front, bad things get deaded." He punctuates his words by drawing the massive falchion from the straps on his back.
Soll moves to take point, presumably alongside Pavel.
